


A Long Shot to Heaven

by Silvertora



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Gen, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Short Story, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 10:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3444359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvertora/pseuds/Silvertora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The young prince Arien is being abused by his father's trusted adviser. He attempts to hide the truth, but it can't remain hidden for long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Long Shot to Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> ***Trigger Warning. See notes at the bottom for details, but they do contain spoilers.***

Arien woke up every morning at seven o’clock, except this morning. Seated at the ornate vanity, he stared into his messy reflection. His blonde hair, long enough to brush the height of his shoulders, was disheveled. His bright green eyes opposed the dark circles that enclosed them. Arien opened the top drawer and pulled out the small pallet of makeup he took from the maid’s washroom. He dipped the sponge in the flesh toned goop, swirling it around until it caked on. He lifted the sponge delicately to his pale face, attempting to hide the shame with no success. His freckled features didn’t take well to the cover up. Rather than masking the bruises, his cheeks became a blotchy, black and blue mess. The thought of his father’s reaction to his appearance today at breakfast made his hands shake. Meeting his own eyes in the reflection caused tears to well up when a loud bang on the door made his heart skip a beat. Arien gasped as he spun around in a panic when he heard the door. Time had escaped him.

“Arien darling, it’s time to get up,” The cleaning lady, Ms. Rainier’s gentle voice seeped through the door. 

“Thank you Ma’ am, I’m up,” Arien called to her as he quickly swept the makeup back into the drawer. Taking up the washcloth on the other side of the vanity, the prince tried to wipe away the excess makeup. A quick glance at himself again proved that he was covered up enough to feel comfortable leaving his safe haven. Already dressed, Arien stepped outside his bedroom, closing the door behind him with a soft creak. Ms. Rainier returned and escorted him to the dining room. Arien graciously nodded at all the servants as they passed, to which he was received gratefully.

The dining room table stretched across the room. Arien followed the side, gliding his fingers on the tops of the chairs until he reached the head of the table. The King’s chair was bigger than the others. Golden with red cushions made of a soft velvet. Arien took his seat on the right side of his father’s chair while his eyes unconsciously traveled across from him. His breathing became shallow as his eyes fixated on the seat across from him. The seat opposing his own belonged to the adviser. A tall, slim man with short, foggy blue hair that swooped over to one side of his head, falling down his cheek like a still waterfall. A strange looking man, but nothing compares to his eyes. Black and empty like a shark. Mysterious, as if they masked his soul. His glare gave Arien chills every time, and many of the castle workers fear him.

Not long after Arien had taken his seat for breakfast, his father and his adviser burst into the room through the elegant double doors on the north end of the dining hall. The King lead with big, prideful sweeps. His long robes floating just above the ground like a leaf gliding through the breeze. Behind him, the adviser walked with books in hand and eyes to the floor. He would follow the King by the swooshing of his robes. 

Seth Osbourne, he calls himself, came to the castle three years ago as a wayfarer. The royal family created this Kingdom nearly a century ago as a place of salvation for non-human beings. They can live normal lives here without fearing public ridicule. Everybody employed in the castle is some form of supernatural being. Seth has never said what he is, but Arien assumes why. His eyes reveal an inner darkness that the King has overlooked, but the prince knows that side of him all too well. Seth took his seat across from Arien, only then did he look up, his eyes directed straight ahead.

The chills shot through Arien’s spine, but he hides his discomfort well. The adviser pulled out the King’s chair and his majesty took his seat. Arien looked up at his father. Though he was covered in expensive clothes and jewelry, the King had a kind face. He was getting higher up in age to the point where his once blonde hair and beard became grey, and his face wrinkled deeply around his eyes and forehead. But his eyes were still as bright as they were in his youth. He rules the Kingdom graciously, much in the way that Arien wishes to be when he becomes King.

“Good morning son,” the King beamed, “did you sleep well?”

“Yes sir, I did,” Arien spoke softly. His father let out a hearty chuckle.

“Excellent!” he began, “you have a long day of training ahead of you.” Arien sighed.

“I know,” Arien’s eyes fell to the surface of the table, which wasn’t interesting on its own until his breakfast was served. Ms. Rainier slipped his beautifully prepared omelet under his nose. The aroma drifted up into his nostrils temporarily distracting him from the conversation going on next to him.

Breakfast ended quickly so the King could return to his business matters. He left, leaving only Seth and Arien behind. The staff was ordered to stay out of the dining hall as well, as long as Arien’s training was in session. Arien feared the worst when they were alone. Seth’s shark eyes stared into Arien’s. The young man felt as if they were pulling him in, like a vortex of darkness. Seth got up from his chair and sauntered over to the prince, bending down to level their heads.

“Get up!” he shouted, causing Arien to jump out of his chair. He smacked the table on the way up and flinched, which encouraged Seth to swing his hand against Arien’s head. Arien bit down at the impact in an attempt to hold in any sound. He breathed heavily through his nose as the attendant came around to face him. His cold, long fingers grabbed at his jaw to examine the young man’s face. Seth’s shark eyes narrowed as they met the off colored skin on the prince’s freckled cheeks.

“You’re pathetic,” he chuckled as his grip loosened on Arien’s face, “you’ll never become King at this rate.” Arien’s fists clenched and his head hung, leaving only the marbled flooring in his sight. Seth was quiet for a moment that didn’t last long.

“Why don’t you say anything boy?” He asked, leaning down to look into the prince’s green eyes. Arien raised his eyes to meet Seth’s. Making eye contact with him always made Arien uneasy.

“I have nothing to say,” Arien spoke in a hushed voice, followed by a harsh swallow. Seth’s brows narrowed, but he didn’t hit Arien again. Instead, he straightened himself and took a few steps away. Arien lifted his head to meet the adviser’s back. Seth was staring outside through the large window on the left side of the room. Arien didn’t know, but a smile had creased Seth’s lips. The man quickly whipped around, his smile absent again, and he glared in the prince’s direction.

“Then let’s begin.”

Today’s training was worse than usual. Seth was in a particularly vicious mood. Arien always started out well, but he would eventually slip up so Seth would hit him. Nervous and clumsy, Arien messed up more and more, and his punishments got worse. Seth always started on the wrist, but when he wanted to have it hurt more, he went for Arien’s face. The bruises from last time were still prominent, but now he was sure to have more. Today, Arien dropped his spoon when he went to taste his soup. Seth made him get up and bend down to pick it up when his leg came down on Arien’s back. He fell to the ground, Seth putting pressure on top of him. He was held in that position until he forced himself onto his hands and knees. That’s when Seth finally let him up. The session ended sooner than planned, however, when Ms. Rainier walked in on them. She witnessed Seth bring his fist into Arien’s eye and ran off in a panic. Seth sprinted after her, leaving the prince alone. He couldn’t allow himself to wait for Seth to return to he ran back to his room, locking the door behind him.

Arien’s emotions welled up inside him all day. Now, sitting alone on his bed, he tucked his knees up underneath his chin to cradle his head as the tears began rolling. The fresh bruises were apparent on his pale skin. Arien felt himself reach a breaking point. Three years ago the abuse began. Going through a mental rerun, he recounted all the beatings, all the yelling, he counted all the times he bled, choked, cried. Tears were streaming down his cheeks by now leaving his sleeves dampened. Arien nearly got to a point where he could flop onto his side, head engulfed in his pillows, and cry himself to sleep. Just when his eyes closed to a slit, a loud knocking sound at his door startled him. The prince shot up, attempting to wipe the tears away from his face, and responded to the knock.

“Who’s there?” he choked out with his shaken voice.

“It’s me,” the gentle voice of Ms. Rainier sounded. Arien opened the door to see that her milky white eyes were puffy and red like she had also been crying.

“Please, come in,” Arien spoke quietly as he checked behind her for signs of anyone else before motioning for her to come inside. She sat upon the plush and well-made bed next to the prince, draping her arm over Arien’s shoulder, making his tears come again. Through his watery eyes, he looked up at her. Her long silver hair, pulled back in a messy braid, draped over her left shoulder. Wrinkles creased her brows and eyes, aging her sun kissed skin. Ms. Rainier acted as a mother figure to Arien since his real mother passed away in his youth. Although she looked as if she were getting up in age, she was only twenty five, eight years his senior. Her species are very keen to the emotions of others, but they have notoriously short lifespans. She will be lucky to reach the age of forty.

“What did Seth say to you earlier?” Arien asked when his voice came back to him. The maid paused, drawing her eyes away from the questioning boy.

“He threatened me,” she whispered just loud enough for the prince to catch, “he said that if I told anybody what I saw, he would kill me.” Arien gasped, shocked at first, then angry.

“I won’t let him!” he retorted, fists clenched upon his lap. But Ms. Rainier shook her head.

“Let it be darling,” she said calmly, “I do not fear Mr. Osbourne.”

“But… after everything he’s done, how could you not?” Arien asked, his glossy eyes reflecting the light in the room.

“Arien,” the maid began sweetly, “he may have hurt you, but you can do something to stop him.”

“What can I do?” His voice choked back, “if I tell anyone, they’ll think I’m weak. I could never rule this Kingdom if word got out.”

“You’re wrong. What makes you look weak is hiding your pain and emotions from the world. Nobody will ever disrespect you for being a survivor of trauma because showing what you went through and proving that you overcame it will make you strong and earn you respect.” Her words made Arien’s heart flutter.

Ms. Rainier got up from the bed, clutching her back as she stood to her full height. Arien got up with her, wordlessly wrapping his arms around her waist. She embraced him momentarily, but she had to leave. No one else were to be in Arien’s quarters after dark. The prince sat at his vanity. Dark bruises already formed on his face. Normally, Arien can’t look at himself without feeling shame, but after hearing Ms. Rainier’s comforting words, he felt empowered. He could see it for himself. With that, Arien stormed out of his room, nearly sprinting to his father’s quarters. Servants watched as he whipped past them, calling out for him to be careful or to watch where he’s going, but their words couldn’t stop him.

Soon enough, he came upon the King’s quarters at the end of the main hall. His doors were always being watched by the night patrol. Arien ran up to them, panting and out of breath from running. The guards questioned his frantic behavior.

“Please,” Arien stopped to breathe, “let me in, I must see my father,” he pleaded. The guards glanced at each other, but before they could do anything, the doors opened behind them. Arien looked up in anticipation but what came out made his throat drop into his stomach. Seth emerged from his father’s quarters with the biggest smirk smeared across his face. He looked at the guards, giving them reason to walk away. As soon as they weren’t within earshot, Seth turned to Arien.

“You’re too late, little boy.”

“Too late for what?” Arien snapped.

“I wouldn’t try to talk to your father for a while, he’s awfully taken aback,” the adviser sneered.

“Why? What have you done?”

“After my story, I’d never believe another word you say,” Seth hinted.

“What did you tell him?” Arien questioned. Seth paused a moment. Just as Arien was least expecting it, the man turns around rapidly and pins him against the wall. Grabbing him by the back of his coat, he lifts the young man to eye level leaving Arien’s feet dangling above the ground.

“He thinks you want me gone because you’re jealous. That you’re an attention seeker. I told him I found bruises on your body. That they must be self-inflicted because I don’t know a soul who would want to harm a hair on your head. I told him that you stabbed me with a fork when I asked you about them, I showed him the scar,” Seth smiled, pulling down his collar to reveal a three pronged stab wound, still fairly fresh, right under his collar bone. Arien’s breathing fell shallow, words that couldn’t escape his mouth were choking him. Seth dropped him, and Arien fell to his knees, eyes and head aimed at the ground.

“This is my castle boy,” Seth’s voice grew deep, his eyes piercing the back of Arien’s neck, “and I won’t let anybody take it away from me.”

 

~

 

Back to his room, Arien ran. He held his against his eyes in an attempt to hide the tears. Slamming the door behind him, he paused. He felt lost. Nobody was left to turn to. Arien had to accept defeat. His mind whirled around until the colors of his room blurred together into a tornado, swallowing him up. His heart was racing, nearly beating out of his chest as he took his seat at the vanity. He drew a piece of parchment from the bottom drawer and a pen, trying desperately to write out his thoughts despite his trembling hand.

Father,  
I know this is sudden, but I have no options left. For three long years, I have endured beatings and verbal abuse from your advisor. I learned that he also plans on taking the throne away from us. Unfortunately, he got to you first, and I know that my efforts to convince you would not have been received well. I’m sorry to do this to you father, but it’s for the greater good. I only ask that you make sure my sacrifice will not have been in vain, and rid the world of that horrible man. Know that I love you and it pains me greatly to do this. Please forgive me for my actions and accept my apology. I’ll be with mom again and together, we’ll watch over you.  
Arien

Arien left the note upon his table where it would not be missed. Leaning down into the opposing bottom drawer, he pulled out his twenty millimeter pistol that he stashed away in case of emergency situations. He went to the doors leading out to a balcony jutting off the side of the castle. It rested just above the rose bushes where they grew upwards, tangled amongst themselves as they reached up the columns. Arien came to the railing, looking over to make sure nobody was there. With tears in his eyes still, he managed to bring the pistol up to his head. His hands shaking nervously, rocking the ice cold barrel back and forth against his forehead.

The prince would be lying if he said that he wasn’t fearful, but somehow, he had made peace with this idea. He knew that removing himself would make everything better. His finger shifted down, wrapping around the trigger. Taking a long, deep breath, he tried to picture heaven. A palace in the sky, he always thought, sitting atop the clouds. Angels flew by strumming beautiful chords with their harps. The ground decorated with streams and flowers of which no one has seen before. A smile complimented Arien’s face as he tensed his trigger finger.

But the young prince didn’t meet his end. A loud crashing sound in the distance startled him. The gun went off. Through the loud ringing in his ears, he heard a voice calling out to him. The voice of a stranger. Arien felt dazed as he fell backwards, his body toppled over the railing, hitting the ground below. His back struck the pavement, as did his head, but as for the gun, the shot he fired only grazed his forehead, sending the bullet into the clear sky. The last thing Arien remembers before his consciousness escapes him was the glowing blue eyes, black hair, and pale face of the man he would later call his savior.

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains brief descriptions of physical and mental abuse. There's also mention and action of suicide in the end.
> 
> I wrote this for a class and I wanted to put it up here. I would love some feedback on it, all is welcome and encouraged.


End file.
